


Waltz of the Bartender

by rin-amazing (gabschle)



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bartender Jeremiah, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Smut, Jeremiah and Bruce are 22 and 21 respectively, M/M, OOC, Out of Character, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-01-15 19:36:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18505660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabschle/pseuds/rin-amazing
Summary: Bruce meets a bartender who piques his interest.Based on a Tumblr post by countessrivers where Bruce and Jeremiah meet during their clubbing/party boy phase. It became a College AU, and then it quickly turned into something much more.





	1. Chapter 1

Bruce walked in the door of Metro, a snazzy bar popular with the local college students, and took in the sights of a bustling crowd hovering around the bar counter.

Spotting a potential way in, he navigated through the crowd (with some success, due to his small stature) and claimed a spot at the counter.

A sea of other patrons was trying to wave down the bartender, who was busy shaking a drink in a tumbler. Bruce wasn't able to get a clear shot of his face, but he put up his hand anyway. After this week's classes, he was more than ready to knock a few back.

One particular patron behind him shoved quite hard to get to a spot to Bruce's right. Bruce glared daggers at him.

"Hi, sir. What would you like tonight?", said a soft voice, and Bruce turned to meet the bartender in question, who had managed to plant himself right in front of Bruce’s spot from behind the counter. Bruce looked quizzically around at the other patrons at the bar who had been in line long before he had been.

The bartender must have noticed this. "No worries. They'll be fine," said the bartender with a sly smile.

Bruce unabashedly gave him a once-over. Lithe build, reasonably fit, strong arms, neck and chest, and - _wow_ \- a beautiful face that could've been etched from stone. His reddish hair was for the most part slicked back, but a few errant strands fell down against his forehead. The glasses that framed his face emphasized his angular jaw.

Bruce shook these thoughts away, looking down for a moment.

A shadow loomed in next to him, and a voice whispered in his ear.

"I saw you look. You're absolutely beautiful."

Bruce looked up at this, but the bartender was already back to his side of the counter.

The bartender - Jeremiah, as his name tag read - drummed his fingers against the counter, deep in thought as he looked Bruce over.

Despite wearing a black turtleneck underneath a leather trench coat, Bruce still felt exposed in a way he couldn't explain.

"Aha!" Jeremiah exclaimed, pointing a finger at Bruce. "You look like the type that desperately needs a break from school. Do I have your permission to surprise you with your drink?"

"Sure," said Bruce, shrugging. Bruce no longer wanted to be here after that embarrassment, so he promised himself that he’d just have one drink here and then go home.

As the bartender waltzed off to make his drink, Bruce put his head on the counter, just wanting to turn invisible.

He heard the bartender approaching before he heard the glass being put down on the counter. The bartender had a certain energy to his stride. It was leisurely, yet concealed a great vivacity.

"Here you are, sir! Long Island Iced Tea, with a few surprises in there just for you," said Jeremiah, practically singing the last 3 words.

As Bruce lifted his drink to his lips, he mumbled out a thanks.

"Not a problem! Enjoy!" Before Jeremiah left, he drummed his fingers over Bruce's left hand on the counter, looking intently at it. Then he stopped suddenly, smiled brightly at Bruce, and left to attend to another patron.

 _Who the fuck_ is _this guy_ , Bruce thought. Oh, well. Soon the drink would help him forget how he had been caught ogling earlier.

* * *

_Damn, this drink is hitting hard_ , Bruce thought, holding his glass up to the light. _The fuck is in this thing?_

Just as he was hitting the bottom of his glass, another glass full of what appeared to be the same drink was scooted to him from across the counter. Bruce barely had time to look up as the bartender threw him a wink on his way to another patron.

The Friday night crowd kept Jeremiah busy, which meant that Bruce could get a good look at him as he rushed to and from each patron. He found he didn’t quite mind.

Bruce couldn't help but notice that while Jeremiah was quite friendly, he had yet to display the surprisingly-intimate behavior to other patrons that he himself had been subjected to. He tried to suppress the giddiness he felt at this.

Either way, Bruce was quite happy to be alone with his drink. In fact, he was so engrossed in people-watching (well, Jeremiah-watching) that when the "Last call!" boomed from behind him he was floored. The whole evening has passed by so quickly.

He looked at his watch. 12:55 AM. Damn, he could’ve stayed here forever, but alas the place was closing anyway.

He looked over at Jeremiah again.

"Heeey!" he yelled over to the bartender. Jeremiah looked over at him. Bruce felt his cheeks warm, but paid it no mind. "How long does it take you to close up on a night like this?"

"Who wants to know?" said Jeremiah with a smirk. God, Bruce loved that his eyes crinkled like that.

"...You okay, man?" asked Jeremiah again. _Wait - I didn’t respond?_

"Uh." Bruce looked down and realized his bar stool was toppling backwards. He clumsily clasped the counter of the bar to catch himself from falling, raking his fingers haphazardly across the counter until he felt hands encircle his wrists. He caught sight of the ceiling, bracing himself for impact, but it never came.

It felt like he was underwater. White noise filled his ears and the sounds around him were muffled. All Bruce knew was that there was a warm voice murmuring in his ear and strong arms wrapped around him. _Hell, I could probably die happy now_ , he thought. _Drunk, happy, and not alone_.

* * *

Bruce opened his eyes to find himself facing a brown carpet that had definitely seen better days. His arm was hanging down in front of him, and as he raised his head he realized he wasn't in his dorm room.

He was face down on a couch, arm hanging over the edge, drool still moist on his chin and on the green fabric of the couch. He groaned mightily as he struggled to keep his eyes open with the light flooding through the huge window by the couch.

As he sat up, his stomach churned. _What the fuck happened last night?_ He couldn't remember, which was becoming increasingly alarming to him.

Somewhere he heard a toilet flush, then a door opened and a head peeked through around the corner from him that led to a hallway.

 _Oh fuck,_ Bruce thought. That was the bartender.

He had to get out of here.

Bruce jumped off the couch, jerked open the front door, and fled down the steps of the apartment complex to the sidewalk outside.

He was so busy running that it was only after running a few blocks that he realized he had no shirt or shoes on.

* * *

Bruce fell through the door of his dorm room and unceremoniously collapsed on the floor, not even bothering to close the door. He had run 20 blocks straight, never looking back.

He had recognized the street of the apartment complex and had roughly known what direction campus was in, but it still had taken about 15 minutes before he had known for sure how to get home.

He was still struggling to catch his breath when someone rapped on his door.

"Well, well, well," the voice drawled, "Look who had too much fun last night."

"Fuck off, Selina," he mumbled into the carpet.

"I'm pretty sure you wouldn't like me doing that around you," she whipped back, kneeling on the floor beside him. "So what  happened, anyway? You're a drunk on your best days and this is still way off from your normal Friday night routine. Spill."

Bruce groaned. "Look, can we not talk about this?" His head was in danger of splitting in two any moment now. He could feel it.

"No can do, pal," said Selina. "You know I'm morbidly curious."

"Aren't you always?" It wasn't a question.

Bruce clumsily got to his feet and sat on the edge of his bed, head resting in his hands. His voice rumbled through his palms.

"Yeah, I didn't catch that. You'll have to speak up a bit, dear," mocked Selina.

"I got fucked up last night and woke up in some dude's apartment."

There was silence. Then Selina laughed. "Didn't know you swung that way, Bruce!" She slapped her hand on her knee and fell back onto the bed cackling.

"This is my dorm room, you know," warned Bruce. "I can throw you out anytime."

"Alright, alright," she gasped out between giggles. "I'll be serious."

"I think it was the bartender at Metro who let me sleep over," he said. "I don't remember much, other than..." Oof, he was not quite ready to admit how much he'd been ogling Jeremiah. Or how flirtatious Jeremiah had been back. "...he gave me a couple fucking strong Long Island Iced Teas."

Selina gave him a look, as if she knew he was omitting something, but said nothing.

"Then I started falling backwards off my seat at the bar, and then I woke up in some random apartment," he finished.

Selina almost pouted. "Was really hoping there was gonna be more excitement to it than that. Like maybe a fight broke out, or..." She trailed off, but looked down pointedly at Bruce's bare chest. "Anyway. Guess it was just boring Bruce again."

Bruce grinned. "I threw you off, didn't I? Admit it."

"Don't act so haughty about it," she said.

Suddenly, Bruce heard shouting coming from the women's restroom. Selina smirked. "Well, RA duty calls. Where drama resides, I abide." She got off from the bed, raised her hand to her forehead in salute, and strode off towards the bathroom.

Bruce followed her to the door and shut it, ready to sleep for the rest of the weekend.

* * *

All too soon, Monday rolled around and Bruce slunk out of bed, threw on his backpack, and left for his Aikido class. It was actually his favorite course this semester, but that didn't mean it was fun getting up at 8 AM to get there by 8:30.

The sun was bright, so he kept his head low. He wasn't a morning person by any stretch of the imagination.

Suddenly, he collided with someone, and as he was about to murmur an apology he caught the stranger's eyes.

 _Jeremiah_. He froze. _Oh, fuck_ , he thought. _He's a student here?_

Jeremiah looked as surprised as he felt. "Hey," Jeremiah said demurely, hand reaching back to scratch at his neck. Then his brow wrinkled with concern. "How ya feeling? You kinda ran off without me getting a chance to check in on you."

Bruce was not in the business of being pitied by anyone.

"Do I..." Bruce shuffled his feet. "...do I know you?"

He felt awful as soon as he spoke the lie because Jeremiah's eyes widened briefly before he looked down, almost with shame.

"Oh shit, uh, sorry man," Jeremiah fumbled. "I work at a bar and I, I thought I recognized you there from Friday night. I must be thinking of someone else though, uh..." He trailed off. "Shit, sorry about that." He ducked his head down and strode off quickly, not looking back.

Bruce's gaze followed him the whole way.

* * *

Friday morning, after coming back from Aikido, Bruce was accosted outside his dorm room by Selina.

"Wait, _Jeremiah_ was the guy who let you sleep over?" Despite being shorter than him, Selina somehow could still get in his face.

Bruce fisted a hand in his hair. "Selina..."

"No, Bruce. This is happening," she said. "All jokes aside, _that_ guy was the bartender you were talking about?"

"Yes, fine, whatever," he said, wanting any reason to get out of this conversation.

Selina glared at him through slitted eyes. "I talked with him last night."

"You _what?_ " Bruce roared.

"You heard me. I happened to waltz by the Metro, and he happened to working there, sooo..."

"Oh my God. What the fuck did you say to him, Selina," he glowered.

"Oh, nothing," she said innocently. "I mean, I thought he was pretty cute, so I was trying to chat him up, but he wasn't having it."

Bruce felt some tension leave his shoulders at that, but turned away, hoping that that was the last of the conversation.

"Hey, asshole, I'm not done yet," Selina said. "I asked him if he was taken, and he said no."

Bruce stopped. "Why the fuck did you ask him that?"

Selina shrugged. "He's cute. I was down to fuck. But clearly he wasn't, despite my best efforts. A shame, too. He's on the market..."

Bruce heaved a sigh. "Will you ever give me rest?"

"Not until you tell me what the fuck happened. _Or_ you go talk to him. Preferably both, but at _least_ one or the other. Seriously, the fucking tension and curiosity is _killing_ me." Selina put her hand on her hip, as if she were admonishing a child and expecting him to fess up.

"Why should I go talk to him?" He asked. It was a fair question, unless Selina knew more than she was letting on.

"Jesus Christ. You have no idea what you're doing, do you?" She turned Bruce around by his shoulders. "I asked him if he had his eye on anyone. He said he had, and that he had let a patron sleep on his couch last Friday night, but then woke up the next morning and the dude had fled without even putting on his shirt. Sound familiar?" she crooned.

Bruce's eyes widened.

"Who cares? I fucked it up, so there's no way it'd ever work," Bruce said.

"Yeah, no fucking kidding. He looked like a kicked puppy talking about you." Bruce winced. "What did you do, anyway?"

The look on Bruce's face must have said it all, because Selina backed down. "Fine, don't tell me. But you have a chance to make things right. I asked when he was working next and he's working tonight starting at 5."

Bruce turned and walked away, but not before giving a begrudging nod of appreciation to Selina.


	2. Chapter 2

Bruce turned up at the bar around 7 that night after fretting for hours about what he'd say to Jeremiah to apologize. Finally, he gave up after making about 45 different scripts in his head for how the conversation would play out. He decided to play it by ear, though the prospect of messing things up again had him on edge.

At first, he didn't see Jeremiah working the bar, but rather a middle-aged man with silver streaks at his roots. He was muscle-bound and clad in leather from head to toe. Bruce could relate on the fashion front.

"Whaddaya want?" the man asked icily.

"Actually, I was wondering if Jeremiah was working tonight?" he asked tentatively.

The man sniffed, eying Bruce carefully. "He is," he said slowly. "Who's askin'?"

"Uh, a friend from school," Bruce said. "We met last Friday night here."

"He's on break, but he'll be back soon."

Bruce sighed with relief. "Thanks. I'll wait to order till he gets back."

Thankfully the bartender left him alone after that.

After about 15 minutes, Jeremiah emerged from what looked like the kitchen area. As he came around the corner of the bar counter, he spotted Bruce and stopped in his tracks.

A tense moment ensued. Jeremiah and Bruce locked eyes, neither flinching. Then, Jeremiah looked away, getting behind the counter and switching out with the other bartender.

An arduously-long few minutes passed where Jeremiah didn't even glance in Bruce's direction. Bruce was beginning to wonder if it had been worth it to venture here tonight.

Finally, Jeremiah strode towards him.

"What can I get for you, sir?" Jeremiah's jaw was taut. The iciness rolled off him in waves. Bruce could feel in his bones.

"Actually, I uh..." Bruce coughed. _Damn, this is hard_. "I wanted to thank you for letting me stay at your place last Friday night."

Jeremiah looked intently down at the glass he was cleaning with a rag, pinning it down with his gaze. "I thought you said you didn't know me."

_Oh, man._ Jeremiah was playing hardball. There was no way he was getting out of this without apologizing. "I... I was lying because I was embarrassed." _There, a half-truth_.

Jeremiah looked up at that, tilting his head slightly to get a good look at Bruce. Then he returned to cleaning the glass.

Bruce continued. "I don't really like people seeing me like that. And I hated that I couldn't remember most of it. I thought it would be easier to pretend it never happened, so that maybe everyone would forget about it. But that was unfair to you and how you took care of me when I was blackout drunk. So I'm really sorry. I let my pride get in the way of a promising... friendship with you."

Bruce had thought long and hard about how he would phrase it. Time and time again, it had come back to doing whatever it took to get back in Jeremiah's good graces, even if it meant sacrificing the potential for a relationship. He cringed at the word "friendship", but couldn't think of another way to put it without endangering what was already on thin ice between them.

Jeremiah paused his ministrations, putting the glass down on the counter with a loud thunk. He looked straight at Bruce, eying him cautiously. What Bruce wouldn't give to know what was on his mind at that moment.

Then, Jeremiah sighed, his shoulders sagging. "Thank you. That means a lot." He glanced down at the counter, then back up at Bruce. "Let's start over. I'm Jeremiah, and I wish I could say I have the pleasure of knowing your name, but I do not." Jeremiah held out his hand to Bruce.

It hadn't occurred to Bruce till that moment that Jeremiah had no idea what his name was. He had paid in cash for his drinks on Friday.

Bruce smiled. "I'm Bruce. Pleased to meet you now that I’m sober, Jeremiah," he said as he shook his hand.

Jeremiah's icy exterior began to melt into warmth as they shook hands. Bruce wondered to himself how long a platonic handshake should be, and as he pulled out of the handshake he thought he could feel Jeremiah's thumb massaging over his.

* * *

Jeremiah fixed him a different drink this time - a mojito, but with a special blend that was uniquely Jeremiah's.

"Damn, this is really good," said Bruce. "Mind if I have the recipe?"

"Sorry, trade secret," said Jeremiah with a wink. "Perhaps you can see how I make it if you ever need to crash at my place again."

Bruce's chest warmed with the possibility of being at Jeremiah's apartment again. _No, Bruce, cool it. We're just friends; don't fuck this up again._

"I can't wait," said Bruce, barely concealing his eagerness, and Jeremiah smiled brightly, his eyes crinkling up again in that way Bruce loved.

* * *

As the night wore on, Bruce learned bits about Jeremiah in the few moments Jeremiah had to spare from servicing the Friday night crowd. Jeremiah was a senior majoring in engineering, and planned to go into clean energy after graduation. Bruce thought privately that that was one of the most noble things one could do with a degree like that, but he didn't get a chance to voice it. Jeremiah had to flit between patrons quite frequently.

Compared to Bruce, Jeremiah was a saint in his eyes. Bruce was a junior majoring in business and planned to take over the family business after graduating. He was good at the courses and enjoyed to some degree being a part of his father's business, but he had always wondered to himself if he could've been more. Someone like Jeremiah fascinated him because Jeremiah was unfettered to any particular family tradition. He was pursuing what he truly believed in, and for that Bruce deeply admired him.

Far too soon it was closing time, and Jeremiah for his part looked dejected when the owner announced last call.

"Wow, time sure flew by," said Bruce, trying to be upbeat.

"Yeah, no kidding," said Jeremiah.

Bruce had an idea.

"Hey, are you working tomorrow?" He asked.

Jeremiah looked down but couldn't hide his smile. "No, why?" He looked back up at Bruce expectantly.

"You're in this bar all the time working - would you want to try out another one with me? I've been dying to go to Taps, but haven't had the chance yet. I’d love to give the dance floor a try while I’m there, too." It was a long shot - Bruce didn't know what Jeremiah's schedule was like between classes and work, or if Jeremiah would even want to go to a bar since tending one was his job.

Jeremiah grinned brightly. "Sure. What time did you want to meet up?"

"How about 10?" Bruce fished the number out of thin air, unsure if it would stick.

Jeremiah raised an eyebrow. "Bit of a night owl, huh? Can't say I'm surprised, though."

"Says the bartender," Bruce quipped.

"Touché," said Jeremiah. "I'll see you tomorrow at 10 then. It was great talking to you, Bruce." He extended his hand out to Bruce and they shook hands. Once again, Bruce felt Jeremiah's thumb running along the length of his. He wondered how much more he could take of that before he would cave in to how he truly felt about Jeremiah.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, 9:30 PM rolled around and Bruce didn't feel like walking all the way to Taps from campus (he had spent an hour coiffing his hair and he was _not_ about to let that go to waste), so he called an Uber.

On the drive there, Bruce fiddled with the buttons on his peacoat. As usual, he wore a black turtleneck, but decided to switch it up and pair it with black dress pants. He worried he was overdressed, but figured that this was a great way to show he was taking this - _whatever_ was going on between them - seriously.

He pulled up around 9:50 to the front of Taps and recognized Jeremiah, who was sitting on a bench with his hands shoved into his coat pockets. 

As Bruce approached, Jeremiah saw him and stood up immediately.

"Hey!" Jeremiah said, and extended his hand. _Oh, no_. If Jeremiah decided to do that thumb thing while he was drunk, Bruce had no guarantees he would keep that moment between them chaste.

Thankfully he was perfectly sober at the moment, so he reached out and shook Jeremiah's hand.

Jeremiah didn't do the thumb massage this time, but instead reached in for a quick clap-on-the-back hug during the handshake. Bruce could smell the cologne on his neck. Fresh and woody. Refreshing, just like everything else about Jeremiah.

"It's great seeing you again, Bruce," Jeremiah rumbled near his ear as he pulled away. And _goddamn_ if that wasn't a blast from the past from their first encounter. Bruce had to close his eyes briefly to will away the beginnings of arousal within him.

He had no idea how he was going to make it through this evening. And even more frustrating was how utterly composed Jeremiah was.

Speaking of - Jeremiah was dressed impeccably. He wore a white dress shirt tucked into black denim jeans, the shirt clinging sinfully to his chest.

The most interesting part of Jeremiah's outfit though was the green lapels earmarking his sleeves and collar. They contrasted nicely with Jeremiah's hair and eyes. Bruce wondered if he could look any more perfect.

Bruce finally composed himself enough to say, "You look great, as always." _Fuck, am I being too obvious?_

Jeremiah didn't seem to mind, offering up a small smile. "Thanks. You do too, though you blended in with the night so I couldn't find you at first." He smirked. "I see why you always choose black."

Bruce had to look down to pretend like his ears hadn't turned pink at that. He coughed. "Let's head inside, shall we?"

Jeremiah nodded, turning and leading Bruce in with his hand at the small of his back. Bruce was sure Jeremiah could feel his body trembling under his fingers.

* * *

Jeremiah let Bruce lead them through the bustling crowd to the bar. Whenever Bruce looked back to make sure he was following, Jeremiah was always right there, pinning Bruce down with his gaze.

Bruce found a couple of seats at the bar and after sitting down patted the seat next to him. Jeremiah smiled sweetly at this.

Bruce broke the silence. "I don't think I could ever order a mojito or Long Island Iced Tea that isn't from you."

Jeremiah laughed. "That's very flattering. It's my job to make unique drinks."

"Does it ever get tiring?" Bruce asked. "Since it's just your day job, and not your aspiration."

"It does. But it's much like engineering in its own right. You have constraints on what you can use to "build" the recipe, and there's a bit of trial and error and prototyping required before you can actually serve it."

"Wow," said Bruce.

Jeremiah looked puzzled. "What?"

"It's just... I've never met anyone who can break down engineering so effortlessly.” Bruce chuckled.

"If I can't explain it simply, then I don't really know it, do I?"

The bartender came and took their orders. Jeremiah ordered a rum and Coke, while Bruce ordered a screwdriver.

"You know, I hate orange juice unless it's paired with vodka," said Bruce.

Jeremiah exhaled a laugh, his eyes crinkling up. "That's funny. The tanginess a bit much for ya?"

"Yeah," said Bruce. "That's why I like how you make your drinks. They're never overwhelmingly sweet or tangy. Just refreshing." Bruce lifted his glass for a toast, and Jeremiah clinked his drink against his, his eyes boring into Bruce's.

Bruce swallowed down half his drink. There was no way he could get through the rest of this night sober.

* * *

After chatting a bit longer and finishing their drinks, Jeremiah suddenly stood up.

"Want to see the dance floor?" he asked, extending an arm in that direction. The playfulness in his eyes was evident.

Bruce shrugged as he stood. "Sure, why not?" He tried to keep from smiling, but it crept onto his features anyway.

This time, Jeremiah led. The night crowd made it impossible to cut through without pardoning oneself every few feet. But Jeremiah was diligent in looking back to make sure Bruce was keeping up.

As they got closer to the dance floor, Bruce boldly grasped onto Jeremiah's bicep. Jeremiah looked back at that and grinned.

When they reached the edge of the dance floor, Bruce let go.

"Sorry, just didn't want to lose ya," he said. He wondered if he would have to half-truth his way into keeping Jeremiah's friendship.

Jeremiah chuckled. "Grab onto me whenever you like." At this, he started dancing, shifting his weight between his feet and making circles with his hips.

Bruce's mouth went dry.

He did his best to recover and emulate what Jeremiah was doing. It was hard, though. His eyes kept darting between the floor and Jeremiah, whose eyes were closed, his hands running through his own hair, clearly lost in the music.

Bruce was incredibly grateful there was a good yard and a half between them.

Jeremiah's hands ran down his own chest and lower. His eyes suddenly opened and locked with Bruce's. _Dammit_. He had been caught.

Jeremiah drifted closer, smirking as he twirled in place and gyrated with the beat.

Bruce was torn. He was aroused by Jeremiah's grace and fluidity, but couldn't bring himself to mess up any more than he already had.

Bruce didn't have to decide. Jeremiah came closer and whispered in his ear.

"Do you like what you see, Bruce?"

_Oh, there is_ no _going back now_ , Bruce thought. He clutched onto Jeremiah's waist and ground himself against Jeremiah, doing his best to make circles against where he thought Jeremiah might enjoy it.

Bruce looked up. Jeremiah's eyes were lidded, and he bracketed his arms around either side of Bruce's head, lowering his head to Bruce's.

They were panting into each other’s mouths, and Bruce couldn't get enough of it. Jeremiah came in even closer, nuzzling his face at the juncture of Bruce's neck and shoulders, his hands pulling the hair at the back of Bruce's head. Bruce could feel Jeremiah pressing light, feathery kisses to his collar bone, even through the fabric of his turtleneck.

Bruce mixed it up a bit, wanting to keep Jeremiah on his toes. He turned around, pressing his back against Jeremiah's front, and rotated his hips against him.

Jeremiah molded his body to Bruce's, his breath heavy against his ear. He held Bruce's chest tight against him, refusing to let go.

The possession made Bruce dizzy with want. His hands found the back of Jeremiah's head and pulled at his tufts of hair, and Jeremiah groaned into his ear.

Jeremiah's hands roamed Bruce's body, first running up and down from his sternum to his navel, and then one pinning Bruce's hip against him while the other pressed lightly on Bruce's neck.

Bruce was seeing stars, overwhelmed between the alcohol and the sensations of Jeremiah writhing against him, his hands clutched tightly around his body. If his body wasn't conspiring against him for release, he would've wanted to stay in this moment forever.

Bruce pulled away suddenly, his body feeling cold without Jeremiah's touch. Jeremiah looked startled.

"Hey, uh," started Bruce, "I think I need to go now."

"Uh... Okay." Jeremiah stopped, looking down at the floor.

Bruce was just turning around when he felt a hand pull down on his. Bruce turned back to Jeremiah only to find him crowding his space, Jeremiah seizing hold of his elbows.

"Bruce, please." Jeremiah pleaded with him. "I... I'd love it if you'd stay with me tonight. Please." Jeremiah cupped Bruce's face, his other arm sliding around Bruce's back, holding him close. "I need you."

"Goddamn," said Bruce. Jeremiah was so close to him. He could feel his breath on his lips. "Can I stay with you tonight?"

"Fuck, did you even hear what I said? That's exactly what I want," said Jeremiah. He leaned in, trailing his lips along Bruce's cheek. "I want everything from you, Bruce."

Chills rushed down Bruce's spine. The composed Jeremiah everyone else saw was not the one he saw. It was thrilling, but also a bit dangerous.

Bruce nodded swiftly. He was ready to take the risk.

"Let’s get out of here, then," said Bruce, planting a kiss on Jeremiah's cheek.

Jeremiah's eyes widened as he took a step back. His fingers lingered a bit on where Bruce had kissed him. He stared down at his own fingers in disbelief, and then back up at Bruce.

Without a word, he took Bruce by the hand, darting towards the exit and navigating expertly through the crowd.

Jeremiah didn't have to look back to make sure Bruce was following. He had clasped onto Bruce’s hand so tightly that Bruce was certain he would lose feeling in it in a few minutes.

* * *

They found a taxi cab and Jeremiah, still holding tightly onto Bruce's hand, climbed in first. However, Jeremiah didn't wait till he was on the other side before pulling Bruce nearly on top of him.

Bruce recovered and settled in on the passenger's side back seat, noticing that Jeremiah had refused to move from the middle seat.

"Where to?" asked the cab driver.

"Lakeview Apartments," said Jeremiah, turning back to Bruce to nestle into his neck.

Bruce was taken aback by how affectionate and possessive Jeremiah was. Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised. How Jeremiah had acted when they first met - the rumbling voice in his ear, the casual drumming of fingers on his own - had merely been indicators of a greater passion lying underneath.

Jeremiah pulled away to use his hands to fold down Bruce's turtleneck, and then went right into lavishing affection on his neck, lapping and sucking gently. Bruce closed his eyes, clenching his fists. He felt his head roll back onto the headrest as Jeremiah bit down hard before sucking gently at that patch of skin again.

"Can't you wait until we get to your place?" Bruce said a bit grumpily. Jeremiah was sweet, but public displays of affection were decidedly not in his repertoire.

Jeremiah looked up, a glint in his eye. "Where's the fun in that? I need you _now_."

Jeremiah held Bruce's face in his hands for a moment, his eyes searching Bruce's face for... something, Bruce couldn't be sure. Then Jeremiah gave him a wicked smile. _Oh, fuck_ , thought Bruce. _I’m in for it now_.

Jeremiah's hands roamed down Bruce's face to his neck and shoulders. He leaned his head against the seat, the point of his chin on Bruce's shoulder. Bruce looked behind him to see that somehow Jeremiah had snaked an arm behind his neck. _When the fuck did he do that?_

Jeremiah's fingers on his right hand massaged Bruce's shoulder in small circles, while his left hand slunk down Bruce's chest.

"'Miah," warned Bruce. Jeremiah's hand didn't waver - instead, he nestled closer to Bruce, his lips grazing against Bruce's ear.

"I need you, Bruce," Jeremiah breathed into his ear. The hand on Bruce's opposite shoulder moved to the side of Bruce's head, holding it in place. Jeremiah ran his fingers delicately through Bruce's hair for a moment. "I can't help myself."

Jeremiah's other hand crept lower to Bruce's navel, pushing gently in. Bruce exhaled loudly, and Jeremiah hummed in his ear.

Without warning, Jeremiah licked up Bruce's ear from lobe to tip, and Bruce turned to face him. "The hell was that?"

Jeremiah grinned fiendishly, using his hand to pull Bruce's hair so that his head was no longer resting on the seat behind him. Bruce cried out, and Jeremiah dove in to bite down hard on Bruce's earlobe and suck on it.

Bruce gritted his teeth against the pain, and when Jeremiah let go Bruce glared at him.

"Mmm, yes, that's what I want to see, Bruce. That fire, that passion in your eyes. That flash of anger that you keep so well-hidden that you yourself don't know it's there until you're provoked. Just like when that guy shoved you at the bar when we first met." Jeremiah pressed his forehead against Bruce's, closing his eyes. "I want to see that side of you, Bruce. I want you. _All_ of you."

Jeremiah's hand drifted lower, and his pinky finger drifted over the clothed tip of Bruce's cock.

Suddenly, the taxi screeched to a stop. "That'll be $15.35," drawled the taxi driver, not bothering to look back at them.

Jeremiah groaned, fishing in his pocket before throwing a $20 dollar bill at the driver. "Keep the change," he said before throwing open the door on Bruce's side and shoving him out of the cab.

Bruce stumbled a few feet onto the sidewalk before regaining his balance. Jeremiah grabbed him by the shoulders to face him.

"Sorry about that, Bruce. I'm in a bit of a rush. I hope you understand." Jeremiah gave Bruce a sly smile before planting a kiss on his forehead.

It was really hard to stay mad at Jeremiah when everything he did was out of complete sincerity. Bruce couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips.

"Hurry up now. Let's head inside!" said Jeremiah excitedly, grabbing Bruce by the hand and bounding up the stairs to his apartment. Bruce could barely keep up, but chuckled at his impatience.

He looked down at his groin, seeing that he was just as impatient as Jeremiah, and smiled sheepishly at him. 

Jeremiah looked over and grinned wickedly.

_Fuck_ , thought Bruce. He was totally done for.


	4. Chapter 4

When Bruce stepped inside Jeremiah's apartment, everything looked roughly unchanged from when he was last here. As Jeremiah shut the door, Bruce could see his own boots had been stored behind the door.

"Thanks for taking care of my shoes," said Bruce. "I'll have to remember to bring those back with me this time."

Jeremiah chuckled as he locked the door, but when he looked back at Bruce his demeanor had changed. His eyes honed in on Bruce with intense focus, and he stalked towards him, throwing his glasses to a corner of the room.  

Bruce was so caught off guard that he took a step back, but then collided with the couch and fell onto it. Just before his head hit the back of the couch, Jeremiah lunged forward, cradling the back of his head with his hands. Bruce was thankful for the cushioning that Jeremiah’s hands provided, but before he could utter a thanks, Jeremiah’s lips crashed into his.

Jeremiah was all over him. One hand snaked around Bruce’s back, clutching him tightly against his body, while the other pulled Bruce’s head even more into the kiss.

Bruce found himself hoisted up and onto Jeremiah’s lap. Jeremiah used one hand to hold Bruce fast between his shoulder blades, while the other hand found his hips and held them in place as he ground mercilessly into them.

The kiss was all-consuming. Jeremiah had not bothered with a closed-mouth kiss, instead opting to suck Bruce’s bottom lip into his mouth and use that as leverage to sneak his tongue into the mix. His tongue pushed against Bruce’s and slid up and down the length of it.

Bruce was heady and overcome with sensation, and moaned into the kiss. This spurred Jeremiah on, and he boldly slid his hands under Bruce’s turtleneck and dug his fingers in.

Suddenly, Bruce was flung onto his back. Jeremiah was trembling, straddling Bruce as his hands roamed down Bruce’s chest and stomach.

“Bruce…” Jeremiah moaned, breaking out of the kiss. “Can I touch you? Please?” His eyes were pleading.

“’Miah…” Bruce cupped Jeremiah’s face briefly before gently guiding Jeremiah’s hand down lower to Bruce’s cock.

Jeremiah turned ravenous. He bit into the juncture of Bruce’s neck and shoulders, and Bruce cried out. Meanwhile, his hands were busy unbuttoning Bruce’s jeans, pulling down the zipper and roughly tugging them down enough to sneak one hand into his underwear.

Bruce moaned when Jeremiah’s hand grazed against his cock. He could feel Jeremiah smile into his neck at this. Jeremiah pulled back to nip at Bruce’s collarbone, his hands skating up to play with Bruce’s nipples. As he lowered his mouth onto one of them, Jeremiah grabbed a hold of Bruce’s cock with his free hand and Bruce thrust up into it.

Jeremiah pulled gently at his nipple with his teeth, and Bruce gasped. Jeremiah’s hand on his cock sped up, and as his teeth released, Bruce exhaled loudly.

“You are so fucking hot, Bruce,” said Jeremiah, a bit out of breath.

Jeremiah laid kisses trailing down Bruce’s chest and stomach. When he reached Bruce’s underwear, he smiled that deadly smirk at Bruce before using his teeth to pull them down.

Bruce groaned. _How could this possibly get any hotter?_

Jeremiah answered that question by licking a long stripe up Bruce’s cock. Bruce’s hips thrust forward of their own accord. He looked down and met eyes with Jeremiah as he was tonguing the tip of his cock.

“’Miah, please,” Bruce pleaded. To his embarrassment, it sounded like a whine, but as long as Jeremiah kept going he really didn’t care how he sounded.

Jeremiah took Bruce in hand and lowered his mouth onto him. _Goddamn_ , the suction was perfect. Jeremiah massaged his frenulum with his tongue as he continued to sink his mouth onto Bruce's cock.

Once Bruce was fully sheathed inside his mouth, Jeremiah began rhythmically bobbing his head up and down Bruce’s cock. The suction noises were obscenely hot, and Bruce couldn’t help but moan loudly, fisting his hands in Jeremiah’s hair. Jeremiah hummed, and the vibrations from that had Bruce thrusting into his mouth involuntarily.

Bruce knew he was done for when Jeremiah’s hands cupped Bruce’s balls. The dual sensations pulled Bruce into an intense orgasm. For all he knew, he was coming for hours.

As Bruce came to, Jeremiah pulled off his cock, saliva coating his mouth and chin.

Bruce’s throat felt sore, like he had just been singing at the top of his lungs.

“Damn, was I loud during that?” Bruce asked.

Jeremiah chuckled as he wiped the back of his hand across his chin. “It was so fucking hot, Bruce,” he said as he crept toward Bruce, planting kisses along Bruce’s jaw.

Bruce looked down and saw that Jeremiah was sporting an erection through his jeans. He was… at a loss for what Jeremiah would want now.

Jeremiah saw him looking and smiled. “Bruce, I really don’t care what you do,” he sighed into Bruce’s ear, “but whatever you do, please fucking touch me.” He ground his cock against Bruce’s hip, groaning wantonly.

Bruce got to work unfastening Jeremiah’s pants, pulling them down along with his boxers and running his hand along Jeremiah’s length. Jeremiah hissed at the contact.

“Wait,” Jeremiah said. Bruce stopped. “Can you… talk to me?”

Bruce was puzzled for a moment. Then his eyes widened with realization. He nodded.

“What are you thinking about right now?” Bruce asked, laying his forehead on Jeremiah’s as his hand worked Jeremiah’s cock.

Jeremiah’s breath stuttered. “How much I want you inside of me,” he said.

Bruce closed his eyes at that. “That is…so fucking hot.”

“You know, that night that you stayed over, while you were sleeping… I was in my room, thinking about you.” Jeremiah bit his own lip as he groaned. “I imagined you throwing me down on my bed and just…fuck, Bruce,” he gasped out as Bruce sped up his hand.

Bruce grinned as he looked on. “What did you want me to do to you?”

Jeremiah thrust up into Bruce’s hand at that. “Goddamn…I wanted you to fuck me into the mattress and bite down on my neck and mark me. To claim me and give me everything you had to offer.” Jeremiah’s breathing started to quicken. “Oh Bruce…please please please Bruce…”

“Come for me,” Bruce said, and worried Jeremiah’s earlobe between his teeth as he clasped tighter onto Jeremiah’s cock.

Jeremiah’s moans filled the apartment as he came on Bruce’s stomach, and Bruce held him as he rode the waves of his orgasm.

* * *

After Jeremiah had retrieved a cloth to clean up Bruce’s stomach, Jeremiah had Bruce sit up while he cleaned him off.

“’Miah, you really don’t have to - ” Bruce started.

“Stop,” said Jeremiah. “I want to. It’s my mess, after all.” He kissed Bruce before continuing to wipe it up.

A thought occurred to Bruce. “Hey, where’s my turtleneck, anyway? From when I slept over.”

Jeremiah pulled away, looking suddenly sheepish. “Oh, yeah. Let me get that for you.”

He left rather quickly, almost running to his room.

Bruce had wanted to wait for him, but he really needed to pee, so he headed after him to ask for the restroom.

Jeremiah’s door was opened a crack, enough for Bruce to see Jeremiah retrieving his turtleneck from on top of a dresser. When Jeremiah turned around, though, something on the dresser caught Bruce’s eye.

It was his Facebook profile picture, framed, with what appeared to be a heart drawn in red lipstick around his face. Other profile pictures of his were likewise framed.

Bruce couldn’t remember giving Jeremiah his full name.

When Jeremiah turned around, he saw Bruce standing in the hallway.

“Hey, uh…” He trailed off.

Bruce approached him slowly, his eyes not leaving the dresser. “’Miah, what are those doing there?” He gestured vaguely at the dresser.

Jeremiah glanced behind him at what Bruce was pointing at, then backed away. “Um. I just… found your Facebook and wanted to have something to remember you by… Bruce, I love you. Everything about you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you and I just…” He looked forlorn.

Bruce yanked the turtleneck from Jeremiah’s grasp and strode back to the living room, not meeting Jeremiah’s eyes.

He was at a loss for words.

“Wait,” said Jeremiah from somewhere behind him. “Bruce! Please, don’t go - “

“Too late,” said Bruce. “That is…so fucking weird and gross and obsessive and stalker-ish and I just. No.” He pulled on the turtleneck he had come here in and pulled on the boots he had left here. “I’m leaving. Don’t fucking follow me.”

“Bruce,” Jeremiah turned him around by the shoulders. “I’m so sorry, I would never want to - “

“You already did, so fucking congrats,” seethed Bruce, shaking out of his grasp. He gathered up his turtleneck and shoes and threw open the front door.

“Bruce!” yelled Jeremiah after him. “Please - I’m begging you. Don’t go. I…I need you.”

“Fuck off,” Bruce yelled back, taking off down the street in the direction of campus. _Man, I_ really _need to get a bike or car with how often I need a quick getaway._

Bruce looked behind him to see Jeremiah running down the stairs onto the sidewalk.

“I _told_ you to _not_ fucking follow me!” Bruce screamed.

Jeremiah didn’t answer, but caught up to Bruce pretty quickly.

“Bruce,” he exhaled, panting alongside him.

Bruce stopped in his tracks, and Jeremiah did too. Then Bruce strode up to him, and punched him in the face. It knocked Jeremiah back onto the ground.

“You follow me again, and you’ll get much worse,” warned Bruce. Then he took off down the street into the night.

* * *

The next morning, Bruce knocked on Selina’s door, hoping they could go to lunch. Surprisingly, she didn’t answer the door, which was unusual for her. He shook it off and went to lunch by himself.

Later that night, he saw her door was open.

“Knock, knock,” he said, gently rapping on her door.

“Hey,” she said, opening the door for him. “I wanted to talk to you, anyway.”

He let himself in, sinking down into a beanbag by the closet.

“I slept with Jeremiah,” she said nonchalantly.

Bruce darted out of his seat in a flash. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.” She smirked. “I’d given him my number in case he changed his mind on Thursday, and he hit me up really fucking late last night. Well, technically early morning,” she corrected herself. “Anyway. Thought you’d like to know.” She blew a kiss at him and winked.

 _That fucking bitch._ Bruce paced the room, too angry for words.

He was lost. Jeremiah had given no indication he was…well…

“Apparently, he’s into girls, which, you know, came as a shock to me,” she said. “But certainly not an unpleasant surprise.”

Bruce reared on her. “When?”

“Like, 2 in the morning or something.” Made sense. He had left around 1. Still, something didn’t seem right…

“Does he know you and I are friends?” He asked.

“Well, yeah. When we talked Thursday night, he knew that I knew who he was lovesick over.” _Oh, fuck._

“Selina, he’s a fucking stalker. You’ve put yourself at huge risk by sleeping with him. I’m surprised he didn’t follow you here.”

“Sounds like someone’s jealous,” said Selina.

Bruce threw his hands up and huffed. “Fine. Have it your way. But you have no fucking clue what you’re getting into.”

He stormed out of her room, slamming the door shut behind him. As he walked towards his room he could hear her yelling “Jackass!”.


	5. Chapter 5

Bruce had decided a study session was in order. He desperately needed something he could channel his anger into.

When he came back to the dorms a while later after some anger-fueled studying at the library, he found Jeremiah hanging out in the door of Selina’s room. Bruce briefly considered making a quick exit back to the library, but figured that Jeremiah would spot him on the way out. He didn’t want to be seen as a coward, and anyway, this was _his_ room. He could come and go as he pleased, Jeremiah be damned.

As he put his key into his door to unlock it, Bruce glanced over at Jeremiah. 

He was a completely different person. Instead of his usual preppy sweaters and khakis paired with his glasses, he had foregone his glasses and had denim shorts on that clung nicely to him. He was wearing a white t-shirt, and _goddamn_ did Bruce have a hard time looking away. But he had to wonder what had happened that had made Jeremiah revamp his entire style. 

As the door to his room opened and creaked, Jeremiah looked over at the sound and locked eyes with Bruce. Now that Bruce could see him straight-on, he was taken aback at his new appearance. His hair was parted slightly and swept back, and holy hell his arms looked amazing in that shirt. And it was a white tee, too… 

Bruce’s heart pounded. Then, he saw the bruise on Jeremiah’s cheek, and remembered that this _stalker_ had found out his full name, found his Facebook, and framed multiple pictures on him and put them on his dresser. All within a week of knowing him.

He set his jaw, entered his room, and slammed the door hard. 

* * *

Bruce and Selina didn’t speak after that. Bruce avoided the dorms as much as possible, leaving early in the morning to study at the library, and coming back to the dorms as late as he could manage to avoid running into either Selina or… her _boytoy_ , as she would’ve probably called him.

Even still, he ran into her sometimes in the hall. She’d stare him down, eyes itching for a fight. Bruce ignored her and looked anywhere but at her when this happened. Thankfully, she never tried to corner him into talking to her. They both knew that would’ve been a waste of time.

Selina and Jeremiah would sometimes hang out together in the lounge on their floor, doing homework together or watching Netflix. When Bruce would walk past, Selina wouldn’t look up ( _fucking cat-like instincts_ , Bruce thought), but Jeremiah would. His eyes would track Bruce as far as Bruce’s line of vision would go, but Jeremiah never said anything to him, and never followed him.

The whole situation was a bit…weird. Bruce almost felt bad for Selina. He wondered if Jeremiah was using her to keep tabs on him and make him jealous. But Selina had good intuition on these things, and if she was being used, she would’ve done something about it if it bothered her. 

This continued over the course of three weeks. Bruce hardly slept, wondering if Jeremiah would pull a stunt during the night. While he had always been careful with his room’s security, he added an extra layer of security by putting a 2-by-4 as a deadbolt of sorts under the doorknob just in case. 

* * *

Three weeks after that fateful Saturday on which Bruce and Jeremiah went on their “date”, Bruce saw Selina hanging out by herself in the lounge, looking down at her phone. 

Something compelled him to plop down on the couch she was sitting on. He looked around at the Halloween decorations she had hung up around the lounge. 

“Love the cat motif you’ve got going on,” said Bruce, bracing himself for an icy response.

To Bruce’s surprise, she played along. “You know me. Cats are beautiful creatures,” she drawled. “A shame they aren’t more appreciated on other holidays, too.”

She looked over at him, sizing him up. 

Bruce sighed. “I’m sorry. You were never the person I was mad at.”

“I know.” She patted the seat next to her, and he moved closer. “Let’s forget that ever happened, how about that?”

“Aren’t you still seeing him?” Bruce was confused.

“It didn’t work out,” she said cryptically. Bruce decided not to push it.

“Sorry to hear.” Bruce exhaled softly, looking down at his lap.  

“Not a big deal. We both were in it for the wrong reasons.” She sat up suddenly. “Enough of this mopey talk. There’s a costume party going on at Alpha Beta Gamma tonight. Wanna come with me?”

“Lemme guess - you’ll go as a cat.” Bruce smirked at her.

“As always. And you?”

Bruce’s eyes lingered over the decorations, looking for something to spark his inspiration. His eyes landed on something, and he smiled to himself. 

“It’s a surprise. Mind if I meet you there?”

“Sure,” said Selina, winking at him before heading back to her room. 

Bruce stood up, feeling more like himself than he had in a while.

* * *

Bruce walked into the fraternity house and was nearly blinded by the lights by the DJ’s stand. The music was loud and hummed through his chest. A smile broke across his face. Exactly what he needed to unwind.

He slipped past the crowd to the drink station, and saw Selina filling up her Solo cup with something labeled “Jungle Juice”. She looked up and gave him a big grin. 

“I see Count Dracula has made it to the party,” she said, looking him up and down appreciatively.

Bruce had dressed to the nines as a vampire. Almost everything that was part of the costume was comprised of clothes he already owned (a purple dress shirt; a purple-laced vest; black dress pants; black patent leather shoes). All he had to do was buy the maroon cape and some black kohl eyeliner that he attempted to finesse around his eyes. 

“Wouldn’t be a party without me,” said Bruce, and Selina punched him in the arm. “You look great.”

She really did. She had donned a little black dress with a sweetheart neckline, pairing it with thigh-high black boots. Of course, she had the customary cat ears headband, and a black circular nose drawn on. 

Her lips parted into a grin as she looked down. “Thanks,” she said. 

The fact that she hadn’t sent a quip back clued Bruce in that she had been drinking. Time for him to start too, then.

As if she had read his mind, Selina raised up her index finger. “One sec - lemme grab you a drink.” 

She filled up a Solo cup with the jungle juice and handed it to him. Bruce mumbled a thanks, and Selina blew a kiss at him with a wink. She was being awfully flirty tonight (and unironically so), and Bruce was not really sure how to take it. She looked amazing tonight though… Maybe after a few drinks, he’d be up for something.

* * *

An hour later, and Bruce was definitely feeling the buzz. He regretted having Selina be his sole companion tonight, because she was _not_ good at turning him down for additional rounds of drinks. 

The room swam slightly as he slung his arm around Selina and laid his chin on the top of her head. They were standing up against a wall in the frat house, and Bruce had some slight concerns that if he didn’t hold onto her in some way that he’d fall down.

He felt her exhale slightly at this. 

“Bruuuuce…” she whined out. She was far gone too, apparently. 

“Mm?”

“We should go hooome.” Selina swayed a bit uneasily under his arm, and he had to pull her back into him to keep her from falling.

“One more drink?” He asked.

Selina made a show of putting on a sigh. “Fiiiine,” she pouted, “but then after that we gotta go.”

As she left, Bruce tried his best to focus on her swaying hips and her captivating gait. His ulterior motive for the last drink was to get him in the mood in case she was up for something later on. 

Fuck, if Jeremiah could get it up for her, he could too, right?

She came back with their drinks, but as she came closer she tripped and spilled some of the drink from one cup onto his vest. 

“Fuck! Sorry about that,” she said, before erupting into a fit of giggles. Since she was laughing, he started laughing too, and he had to clutch onto her to keep from collapsing onto the floor from laughter. 

“I’ll grab some napkins,” he said, and left for the drink station.

As he was approaching the drink station, he saw someone grab a Solo cup and dispense some juice. Bruce froze.

It was Jeremiah. _Fuck_ , how did he always turn up where he was? 

Bruce briefly entertained the thought of just leaving the stain on his shirt just to avoid going near Jeremiah, but the wetness seeping through was becoming quite uncomfortable. He sucked in a breath. _Might as well make the best of this._

When he got to the table, he reached towards the napkins, and Jeremiah spotted him. Bruce panicked.

“Heyyyy, ‘Miah! How’s it going? Fancy seeing yooou here,” said Bruce. His cheeks felt like they were blazing. And _damn_ , did Jeremiah clean up well.

Jeremiah seemed to be dressed as…a snazzy clown? He had a polka dotted white short-sleeved button-down, paired with blue dress pants and green suspenders. He had even put white makeup on his face, and appeared to have filled in his eyebrows with black and done some black eyeliner.

But the thing keeping Bruce glued to him were his lips, which were painted with burgundy. 

“Hey, Bruce,” said Jeremiah, eyebrows raising slightly. 

This made Bruce tear away from his lips momentarily to look into Jeremiah’s eyes. Wow, Bruce thought. This was…the first time they had exchanged words in weeks.

It was incredibly hard to read Jeremiah, possibly because he himself was drunk, but Bruce kept talking anyway.

“What are you even doin’ here, maaan? I swear I always see you around,” said Bruce, giggling a bit. 

This made Jeremiah break into a huge grin, and his eyes crinkled. Oh my god, he had missed that, so much.

“Aren’t I allowed to attend parties?” Jeremiah said, not losing his grin. “Selina had mentioned it earlier this week.”

_Oh, fuck._ Bruce had been so enamored with the conversation…with how Jeremiah looked…he had almost forgotten he had been seeing Selina. 

“Oh.” Bruce swallowed and looked down. His enthusiasm deflated. Then suddenly, the floor started getting blurry, and it moved. His arm reflexively swung out to regain his balance, but he felt warm hands on his arms righting him up.

“Bruce, are you okay?” Bruce couldn’t look at him. He was officially done for the night, and wanted to go home and curl up and not speak to anyone.

“I ahhh…need to gooo…” said Bruce, but he felt his head falling back from fatigue. If Jeremiah let him, he could fall asleep right here in his arms.

“Bruce, I’m really worried about you,” said Jeremiah. _Whoa, when had he gotten that close?_ Bruce could feel his breath against his cheek and lips. 

“Naaah, it is all gooood,” drawled out Bruce, leaning back to get away from Jeremiah. He tilted his head away so that he wouldn’t do something stupid like…

“Bruce!” Jeremiah grabbed his jaw firmly and tilted it back to face him. _Oh, no._ Bruce was not in a state of mind where he could resist Jeremiah right now. His body pleaded with him to lean in, and Bruce closed his eyes, half-wondering if Jeremiah would make a move, and half-wondering if maybe if he fell asleep he could wake up and everything would be back to normal.

He felt someone pull on his arm - _Selina?_ \- and Jeremiah let go. Bruce stumbled into Selina, and somehow she was able to break his fall. 

“Let’s goooo, Bruce,” she said, grabbing him by the hand and leading him out of the house. Bruce didn’t even have time to look back at Jeremiah, but the ghost of his touch still lingered on his arms.

* * *

Bruce had to lean against the car for balance as he fumbled with his car keys to open the door. 

“Yooo, let me in, too!” Selina said from the other side of the car. 

“Getting there! Chill,” said Bruce, closing his eyes and wanting nothing more than to pass out right here. 

Instead, Bruce unlocked the car with the fob and rolled into the driver’s seat, his elbow ramming into the center console. He let out a grunt, massaging his elbow while Selina stumbled into the passenger’s seat and shut her door. 

“Damn, dude, I was gone for like 5 seconds and you hu-urt yourself,” Selina hiccuped as she cackled. 

“Shut the fuck up,” said Bruce, shutting his door and trying to figure out what way to put the car key into the ignition.

He had just figured out which end when someone rapped loudly against his window.

Bruce looked over, and immediately opened the door.

“Oh, Jeremiah!” He beamed, really happy to see he had come back. 

Jeremiah, however, did not echo back his enthusiasm.

“Out.” Jeremiah clipped. Bruce had to shake his head to make sure he heard right. 

“Huh?”

“I. Said. Out.” Jeremiah seethed. “You’re not driving.”

Selina yelled some things out at Jeremiah, but Bruce couldn’t hear all that well, too taken in by Jeremiah’s lips again. He tilted his head, wondering what it would be like to see them parted on something else…

Jeremiah leaned forward, and Bruce was caught off guard enough to lean back. Instead of heading towards his mouth though, Jeremiah leaned down to unfasten his seatbelt. 

“Come on, Bruce,” he said, pulling lightly on Bruce’s arm. Selina was still saying something in the background, but Bruce was falling in and out of wakefulness.

Apparently Bruce hadn’t responded, because he felt one hand pull on his head while an arm reached across his chest to pull on Bruce’s waist. Bruce hummed, closing his eyes. If he had to get this drunk to get touched by Jeremiah, he’d do this every night. 

Bruce felt himself being hoisted into the air, his head lolling back and his legs suspended in the air. Jeremiah barked something at Selina and Bruce found it odd that Selina didn’t yell his head off for doing so, but she must have done something because the next thing he knew he was lying down on something soft. Something shoved his feet in, then a door slammed. Another door shut, and then he fell out of consciousness.  
  



	6. Chapter 6

Bruce drearily opened his eyes, his vision blurring at the edges.

He slowly sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes and reorienting himself to his surroundings.

To his surprise, he was back in his room, and in his own bed. His last memory had been... a car? Jeremiah? Selina shouting? It was all a blur and Bruce groaned with the effort it took to remember what all had happened last night.

Pulling his head from between his hands, he looked to his bedside stand. His phone was plugged in, and beside it was a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water.

It was only after he had swallowed down two pills and chugged the entire glass of water that he realized the placement of them was a bit too convenient.

He peered over at his phone, and saw a text from Selina.

_We need to talk._

Oh, fuck, thought Bruce. Her curtness was never a good sign.

_You tell me when and where._

A minute later, there was a knock on his door.

"Hey, open up," Selina said from behind the door.

Bruce smirked. Selina as ever was blunt.

He opened the door and she strode in briskly, taking a seat on the bed.

"Well, I would say come in and make yourself at home, but I see you were way ahead of me," he said as he sat down next to her.

"As always," Selina said. Then she fell quiet, her eyes drifting down to her lap.

_Wow_ , thought Bruce. Whatever was on Selina's mind was clearly enough to blindside her. And truly, nothing ever did.

Bruce spoke up. "Hey, were you the one who plugged in my phone and put the pills by me?"

Selina looked up at that. "You don't remember? Jeremiah drove us back from the party. When we got to your room, he told me to wait by the door and he got you into bed. That's when he plugged in your phone and put the aspirin by you." She shrugged. "I barely remember much, other than that after that he led me to my room. Though I didn't get nearly as special of treatment as you did. He left me to fend for myself." She gave him a small smile before her gaze dropped to her lap again.

"I've been meaning to tell you something for a while." Her lips pursed; her eyes drifted off into the distance.

"Remember how I said Jeremiah and I were both together for the wrong reasons?" Bruce bristled, but swiftly nodded. He didn't want to think of that right now.

"I...I really like you. Uh, romantically. I have, for a very long time. But I also know your, uh, preferences." She let out a shaky breath. "I guess it came to a head when I met Jeremiah. I thought that maybe I'd finally found someone who was as into me as I was into them. But boy, was I fucking wrong."

Bruce froze. "Wait, what do you mean?"

Selina met Bruce's eyes. "He was never into me. We slept together, once. But it was clear he was really thinking about someone else." She sighed heavily, looking down again. "About you. And, I guess, so was I."

Bruce carded his fingers through his hair, fisting his hand towards the back of his head.

"We ended up bonding over our mutual, uh, attraction to you." Her hands ran up and down her thighs, as if she were looking for something to do with them.

Then, she stilled, looking over to Bruce. "He is... _really_ in love with you, Bruce. Like, head-over-heels." She let out a breath. "He told me about what happened. With you finding the pictures."

At this, Bruce jumped up, fists clenched. "You know I can't forgive him for that, Selina," he said through gritted teeth.

She stood up. "I'm not asking you to." She took a step forward into his personal space, eyes trained on him. "I've just...never seen you so hung up on someone before. You think I'm blind? You wanted to jump his bones every time you saw him with me."

Christ, was he really that transparent? "Yeah, well, lust isn't the same as love, is it?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Don't play games with me, Bruce. You were both acting like kicked puppies during the couple of weeks he and I were hanging out. That kind of possessiveness isn't a lust thing."

He crossed his arms, turning away from her to pace.

Selina sighed heavily. "I might not be super lovey-dovey, and I might be...a bit jealous, to be frank," she nearly spat out, "but I'm not _soulless_. I can see when two people are in love and need to talk it out."

Bruce huffed and rolled his eyes, but said nothing as he continued to pace.

"He and I hung out a LOT, and I can tell you one thing, Bruce. Whatever he is, he isn't a stalker. He's just...not really sure how to express his love for someone in a normal, healthy way. But he can learn, Bruce. He regrets what he's done to you. What he did to you. Him coming to me wasn't a malicious way to get back at you. He wanted comfort and companionship."

Bruce faced his mirror that was fixed to his closet door, his face taut with anger.

"Why are you here, Selina?" He glowered at her through the mirror's reflection.

Selina rolled her eyes. "Bruce, it's because I think with some time and space, maybe you guys can repair your friendship. And maybe see if some day it turns into something more? I'm not here to pressure you, but I couldn't just let this go without giving my input. Especially since I've spent more time with him than you have."

"Great. You gave your input. You can go now." Jaw still taut, Bruce strode to the door, opening it and gesturing his hand toward the hallway.

"Hey, don't be a dick because I spoke my truth. Even if it's a bit inconvenient for you." With that, Selina left.

_Thank God that's done_ , thought Bruce, as he slunk back to his bed and fell face-first onto it. The day had hardly begun, and he was already ready for it to be over.

* * *

Bruce threw himself into his studies, but try as he might, Selina's words bled into his thoughts.

_Head-over-heels...spoke my truth...possessiveness...in love..._

Mercifully, Jeremiah was nowhere to be seen after that Halloween party. Thank God, because he was sick and tired of him turning up wherever he went.

* * *

During one of Bruce's many pacing sessions in his room (which had exponentially increased as of late), he pondered over Selina's words for possibly the millionth time.

He thought back to his time with Jeremiah. From the beginning, Jeremiah had been nothing but helpful when he needed it. The first time, when he got blackout drunk at Metro and Jeremiah took him back to his place and let him sleep over. The second time, when Jeremiah had driven him and Selina home when it was (he had to admit to himself) too dangerous for either one of them to drive. Jeremiah going the extra mile to make sure Bruce was taken care of the next morning - plugging in his phone, putting the water and pills on his bedside table.

Bruce begrudgingly conceded that Jeremiah had proven himself to be a good friend to him.

Heck, Jeremiah was probably tired of having to "save" him whenever he got too drunk. He had been doing his best to run away from introspection, but now, thanks to Jeremiah's repeated interventions, the mirror was held up to his rash actions concerning alcohol. It was becoming a pattern.

Bruce sighed heavily. God, he hated being self-aware sometimes.

Bruce thought back to the night when he discovered Jeremiah's...obsession with him. Damn, he had punched Jeremiah and knocked him on his ass. Bruce stifled a laugh, and then had to wonder at what point violence had become funny to him.

Bruce sunk down onto his bed, his head between his hands. Man, did he have a lot of growing up to do.

Suddenly emboldened, Bruce stood up and strode to the door. There was something he needed to care of.

* * *

"Wow, didn't think you'd come here at all, let alone for this," drawled Selina.

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Shut up and lemme have it."

"Fine, fine. I'll text it to you." Selina made a show of huffing through her nose as she took out her phone, but Bruce knew better.

"Admit it. You're happy this is happening."

"Yeah, yeah. Can it, will you?" A smile pulled at the edge of her lips.

Bruce's phone lit up with a text from her. "Thanks. I uh...really appreciate it." He strode two lengths and pulled her into a quick hug.

As he pulled back and turned towards the door, he heard Selina mumble something that sounded like "Damn, he really _did_ change you."

* * *

Back in his room, Bruce nervously fiddled with his phone for a while before opening up Selina's text. He copied the number she had given him into a new text, addressed to that number.

_Hey, this is Bruce. I was wondering if we could go to lunch sometime and have a talk._

His thumb hovered over the Send button. Should he have something more substantial considering how they left off before the Halloween party?

He started over.

_Hey, Jeremiah. This is Bruce. Thanks for helping me the night of the Halloween party. Selina told me about it. I was wondering if we could go to lunch sometime and have a talk._

"Helping" him? More like saving his ass. He started over.

_Hey, Jeremiah, this is Bruce. I was wondering if we could go to lunch sometime and talk. I want to try and make things right between us._

Ugh, would that be interpreted as romantic?

_Hey, Jeremiah, this is Bruce. I was wondering if we could go to lunch sometime and talk. I want to try and fix this friendship._

Geez, this was hard. Maybe he was overcomplicating things. He decided to keep things simple. Perhaps explaining his motivation would be overkill at this point.

_Hey, Jeremiah, this is Bruce. I was wondering if we could go to lunch sometime and talk._

There. Vague enough. Jeremiah could interpret it as he liked. He pushed Send, threw his phone on his bed, and paced around his room.

A few minutes later, his phone chimed.

_Sure. When and where?_

Oh, thank God. Bruce had honestly expected outright rejection.

_How about tomorrow at noon, in the food court?_

His phone chimed again.

_Sounds great. See you then!_

Bruce sighed with relief. He tapped the number, and saved it as "Miah".

Maybe they really did have a chance to make things right between them, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience while waiting for this chapter! I had a massive writer's block on this before I decided to revamp the ending to my story. What Jeremiah did is normally something that warrants an instant block, especially on the first date. I wanted everything going forward to be believable and realistic to how that gets resolved if the person isn't instantly blocked. 
> 
> Because I've revamped the ending, there's actually going to be 8 chapters total, rather than 7. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, lovelies!


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